The Lineage of Phylynya Von Drakko
by Kathryn Christine Starcrafter
Summary: Tells the story of one of my characters, the half-orc sorceress.


-**DISCLAIMER-**

'Dungeons and Dragons' © Wizards of the Coast

'Phylynya Von Drakko' and all content within © Kathryn Christine Starcrafter

-**AUTHOR'S NOTES-**

A friend of my is running a campaign via yahoo. She had each of us doe a character BG. Depending on how thorough it was we got extra equipment and stuff. This was mine. Thought it was worthy of adding.

On the bottom I left the dictionary just for the heck of it.

-**THE LINEAGE OF PHYLYNYA VON DRAKKO-**

Many centuries ago there existed a grand city standing amidst Ferrodbekilk, a desert of golden sands. Its name was Taoulharanhew, coined by its immortal lord, the Blue Wyrm Mitnetorirjesk. He was known and feared across countless plains, revered by nobles and commoners alike. He ruled his people with claw and fang and none dared oppose his will. Like many a dragon before him he delighted in the earthly pleasure easily acquired by his status. Particularly in the Kihlesa women, of which he ravished nightly. There was one of whom he favored above all others. He called her Vorelneelam, Beautiful Sapphire. However, his favoritism unbeknownst would be the beginning of a sequence of prophetic events leading to his fall and the uprise of the Kihlesa. Nothing need be said of the people's dislike of their Ithquentith. It was told that Vorelneelam had a wit to outmatch her beauty. With it she used Mitnetorirjesk's unquenchable lust for her to gain an uneasy level of trust. It took many moons but with the help of a sister slave, Lami, her plan was near unfailing. Three before she had been told the unthinkable. She would be his Queen, bearing his heir. He, like an ego maniacal fool, presented her with an engagement present. Kepeskoth, a dagger crafted from the canine of his father before him -the previous Ithquentith. The night before the ceremony was to be preformed the moon was full and bright. The moment was perfect. She did not sleep that night beside her polymorphed king. Drugged on the most exotic wines from the trader caravans, he never felt her warmth leave his side. Dagger in hand she plunged the serrated blade deep into her lover's breast. Then she fled, heavy with child.

With the Amulet of the Ithquentith, smuggled for her from the Ithquentith's head chef, Theron, she bypassed the guards through the exit of the kitchens on the back of the swiftest horse in the city, Abastor. After the security of the walls she was free. Her destination: Langit, a fertile farmland in the East. Vorelneelam road unstopping for four days and four nights. It was not until the dawning of the fifth that her escape plan finally collapsed from under her. As Abastor rose across yet another dune the sands shifted from beneath. He fell down lame, tossing his charge across the sands. Again the earth quaked, spewing a tower of granules as a prodigious maw rose up from oblivion and swallowed her valiant steed whole. Ithquantsonear looked down upon his next victim, licking his bloody fangs with a serpentine tongue. The Brown Dragon was one of many who roamed the glassy Underdark of Ferrodbekilk. Despite the fear coursing through her veins again wit won out. Vorelneelam retrieved the amulet, standing to proclaim herself as a Vessel of Mitnetorirjesk. The Browns had for many centuries paid homage to the dreaded blue and his ancestors before him. This fact had caused the wyrmling to pause for a moment, long enough to allow an unlikely band of rescuers into action. A small clan of Khajaghiki had been patrolling with their lord upon sighting the sand dragon's eruption. It was not on an act of heroism that the Blue-Eyed Orcs had given pause to their trek, but in reality fearing a threat to their borderland. For Vorelneelam had to take the risk and cross along the oasis lair of the Khajaghiki in her travels eastward. Haraldr, the mighty ruler of the Orcs, rose his royal Falchion, Baprivrhyisjic, to rest upon Ithquantsonear's brow. But the little dragon was no fool. He took a mighty, sandy breath and in the chaos escaped beneath ground. This was looked upon as a victory by the barbarian Khajaghiki as they stomped forward to claim their prize. There were many words that could be said about Orcs. Evil, malicious, vile, and warring being so very few. But there was never ever a handful at any time who would have ever coined the term intelligent to an Orc. Haraldr was the exception. It had only been when said Khajaghiki had taken up the position of his father before him that the dreaded king Mitnetorirjesk had truly taken an interest in the tropic-dwelling Orcs. Haraldr had proven his mental prowess many times before, leading his band to jump caravans and successfully defend their forest home. Vorelneelam could not speak Orc, but she could speak Draconic. And the enlightened humanoid understood. But his actions were not what she had hoped for, rather what she both dreaded and suspected. He had his tribesman bind her and take her with them into Chaviylah and their City of Pison.

Documents dealing with the near year that Vorelneelam spent there alive is if not misleading then incomplete. Some believe she used her way with Mitnetorirjesk to persuade Haraldr not to kill her. Others say Haraldr himself kept her alive in order to gain insight into the wyrm overlord and any weaknesses that his kin could exploit. It is known, however, that Vorelneelam gave birth to Mitnetorirjesk's heir within Pison, in the care of Haraldr's females. As well that she died in labor and that it was an Orcess named Barbara who cut the Draconian child from her stomach. It goes without saying that soon the child was discovered by Haraldr despite any attempts at his concealment. Barbara had feared for the youngling's safety though it soon became apparent that it had been unneeded. For once the Orc Chieftain saw the crossbred babe his malevolent eyes lit with prospect. He took the child as his own and named him Silastrix, Dragon Decedent. He raised the child like a favored son, teaching him both to fight and to rule. But the Draconian had not gained much humility from his mother, rather the insatiable appetite for power from his father. And the veracious Orc lord only existed to fed this quickly growing predator. Fifteen years went by before Silastrix struck. Haraldr's tribe approved. The Draconian issued a challenged to his godfather, where the prize was continued wellbeing. The fight was long but the half-dragon proved both the stronger and smarter. It had been Haraldr's own sword who betrayed him. Baprivrhyisjic was never Orcan made. It's name was Draconic, meaning 'The Immortals are Bleeding.' It would choose its own master and the Orc had lost its favor. Haraldr fell by the edge of his own blade wielded by a boy he had taken under his own. Thus began the reign of the Draconian Lord, Silastrix.

Silastrix had only ever wanted but one thing in his life: to gain the throne of his true father in Taoulharanhew and all of Ferrodbekilk. And so for the next five years he trained under the shadow of Mitnetorirjesk as the still living lord surveyed his land in search of the as yet unknown. The Draconian believed he knew of his son's existence and that was what drove the blue through the sky. But Silastrix would not reveal his trump card just yet. It was the fall of the fifth year as the moon began to rise that the new lord of the Khajaghiki sent his army into the walls of Taoulharanhew, storming his father's capital kingdom. Thousands were killed of both human and Orc alike. The half-blue called upon his ancestor atop the parapets of the burning city. Mitnetorirjesk erupted from his throne to meet the challenge and father and son collided in wrathful glory. For hours they fought until the sun rose upon the crumbling fortress. Silastrix with Baprivrhyisjic in claw was able to combat the ancient blue on even terms. Lightning against lighting, fang and claw. The very air was charged and soon the parched desert was overcome with rain and mud. The Orcs fled the walls and it would seem the humans had won there battle, however their lord perhaps had bitten off more than he could chew. The dragon was ancient, no heir but for Silastrix who it would seem had betrayed him. Mitnetorirjesk would never comprehend defeat, even when he had been stabbed by his lover while he slept. The wound still haunted him, hindered him. As Mitnetorirjesk fell from the sky in rabid fury, his wings blacked and torn, Silastrix shot into the sky with Baprivrhyisjic poised like a spear. The two fell into each other, Falchion slicing straight through the same scar that his mother had run near two decades before. The blue dragon, with his last breath, grabbed hold of his son and the two fell to their death together.

The Orcs had retreated back into the forest, scattered and disorganized without their leader. This would go on for nearly a year till one day a strange Orc appeared. Strong and intelligent like Haraldr, the only problem was that she was female. Even so this did not stop her and eventually even the male Khajaghiki began to both fear and envy her. For the death of Silastrix had not been the end of Mitnetorirjesk's lineage. Taken after his step-father, the half-dragon discovered the pleasures of the Orcesses that practically worshiped the very ground on which he walked. Cush, it would seem had been his favorite. She, the daughter of Haraldr and Barbara, bore him one child. She was named Jikaeljuglanth, Wonderful Horror. It had taken many a moon before she soon became both like her grandfathers and father. Soon the Blue-Eyed Orcs were reunited and larger than ever. In due time she would usher in another era in history just as gruesome as her parentage. Taken after Silastrix and sickened by his death, Jikaeljuglanth wished to begin yet another ploy for dominance against the Kihlesa still rebuilding inside the walls of Taoulharanhew. During that time with the death of their overlord, the humans had renamed themselves Alterf, and their city Bengolarrea. The magnificent royal Falchion of the Orcs was recovered from within the carcass Mitnetorirjesk and set in the hall of the new castle from which humans would rule forever after. The corpses of both dragon and son were torn, materials taken and used as weapons and armors. What remained of blood and flesh became tonics and salves to heal as best their minimal wizards could. An individual known as Korex -son of Theron and Lami- set himself to be the new King of Bengolarrea for he had been the one to lead Mitnetorirjesk's human soldiers into battle when the Orcs attacked. In that generation of peace and prosperity he married a woman from the reborn markets named Dyani and by him she bore three sons, Ozcollo, Micos, and Cuntur. Similarly, Jikaeljuglanth had begun her line of descendants. She took up with a powerful, yet perhaps little witted, Orc named Ezkepap. Through him she bore a son with the might of his father but the tactical intellect of his mother. He was named Czernobog, Black God. For he would be the ruler of both Orc and Man.

Though there was peace through out Ferrodbekilk this did not mean the realm was without its perils. The children of Bengolarrea were told never to venture outside of the city walls for a time. Chaviylah was not especially close, but the Orcs that dwelled within at the time were well traveled and back on the prowl. Still, warnings tend to fall on daft ears at times when most needed. Driven by the chance to find glory in battle the three sons of Korex set out to concur the Circle of Eden. But the results were bloody. They were a fine trio of warriors in training but had never seen gruesome combat first hand. Controversially, the Orcs, a race of hardened war mongers at any century, could kill mercilessly right from birth. But it was no ordinary Orc that the triplets had encountered. But rather, the Black God. Jikaeljuglanth knew of the intrusion and warned her son not to interfere. It was too early to strike a blow to the people of Bengolarrea. Czernobog, driven by blood lust, heard not a word of his mother's speech. He confronted the three brothers alone and tore at them with claw and fang. He let only one survive his insatiable wrath, allowed to warn his people of the fear that lurked within the forest. Ozcollo survive the unprovoked onslaught and returned to warn his father the King. Korex was not a man who throughly enjoyed bloodshed but he would not uphold such a deplorable act, even by an Orc. He gathered a small platoon and sent them into Chaviylah, if only to instill fear to a point. However, like Czernobog, they starved for revenge against the foul beast that had slaughtered their kin. It had shown no mercy, neither would they. Their search did not take long. Jikaeljuglanth had extended her empire into sparse pockets through out the forest. It was one of these small groupings that they found and burnt to the ground. Instilled with rage, the Orcess retaliated. She allowed no trader free passage. Starved for fresh food and water a platoon again ventured forth but with more peaceful intentions. But in the end yet more blood soiled the muddy earth. For years this cold war raged between human and Orc with no clear victor in sight.

During this time Czernobog had chosen a mate for himself. Unlike his male parentage before him or his mother he had been quite picky with his selection. He wanted a Orcess that could stand her own in blood but was no fool to die for unjust causes. He found her, Sh'Lorron. And the two were mutually happy. With her he knew his children would be the smartest, the bravest, and the strongest. Similarly, Ozcollo took on a wife of his own. Her name was Tanith, a powerful wizard from the school that had eventually been built to further less physical endeavors against the Orcs. Scouts from other plains could enter and cause harm if need be with out being harmed. There was also the prospect of transmutation. Still, parties of both wizards and soldiers alike continued to brave the humid borderlands to the south. The brutish Orcs truly had little in ways of defense against the magic of the mages. In fact, it would seem the only ones not frightened were that of the still living Jikaeljuglanth and her son. Truth be told it was the manipulative Orcess who gained a nasty idea. She understood that it was her ancestry that granted her such prowess. Similarly that her son as well held such secrets inside of him. She instructed her son to watch but not to interfere, to learn. And for once he listened. He came back to his mother with the knowledge he had gained and soon she too understood. She instructed him to gather the smartest of the Khajaghiki and for him to be their tutor. They would match the humans in the challenge of wits. Or at the very least attempt a counter. Czernobog didn't care much for this plan. He did find it amusing that he could wield such energies but would have rather stuck to his dagger. Still, the first he taught was his mate, Sh'Lorron, as well as his son, Yrzezi and there little daughter, Kirukiv.

The spell caster and the son of the King bore a daughter together and named her Emu. She grew under the political prowess of her father and the metaphysical knowledge of her mother. There was many a day she would spend in the vast library, eventually named Eosphoros, at the center of the city as well as the training yard for the men. It was there that she met a soldier named Yafeu von Drakko and the two became close. She would often venture with him and the rest of their patrol for that day into Chaviylah. At the time they did not see as much confrontations as many years prior. It was on one of there outings that the two had first experienced an Orc's use of magic. It was only a minor casting but if anything it served to instill fear in the human guard. When they returned Emu explained what she saw to her father, King Ozcollo. At first he did not believe her, that was until he himself ventured once again into the Circle of Eden. It was true, some of the Khajaghiki could generate spells as if they were part of their being. He returned to the castle and for a time there were no more patrols into the forest of the Orcs. Ozcollo was contemplating what to do. He did not want to invade the forest, his people had only spent a single generation at an uneasy peace so there was no one to enlist as reinforcements. Emu suggested they attempt a peaceful gathering of both Orcs and Humans alike. Ozcollo scoffed at the idea. He continued the neutral intrusions from before, his rogues informed to merely observe.

It wasn't until another outing where Emu -even after being advised by her father to remain within the fortress walls- and Yafeu that yet another sequence of events brought about an end to the cold war within Ferrodbekilk. He himself was as well opposed to the idea as of late. Their own son, Muranu, was growing older and a bit rambunctious. He had yet to see through his first decade of life but he had earned himself a sparkle in his grandfather's eye. Despite his youth he wanted to go with his mother and father. Controversially, the children of Czernobog and Sh'Lorron were allowed to roam were they pleased. Jikaeljuglanth, alive though beginning to wither, disapproved of this greatly. Czernobog would often times take his son out pillaging with him. His daughter was far less enthused by the prospect and instead went her separate way. She preferred to be by her lonesome and was greatly enraptured by discovery. It was due to this curious nature that for once human and Orc met without the need to set blood seeping from the other's torn skin. It was often that Emu would divert from her platoon's set course. She would sit alone within the forest and draw, preforming minor expirations with the soil and flora. It was on one of these that she met the young Kirukiv, squishing the petals of a flower and using the pigment to doodle upon the bark of a tree. Neither was afraid of the other, instead rather it was the wonder of the other that kept them within close proximity. That was until Yafeu and the others caught up. The soldier immediately sprang at the youngling, intent to kill. But Emu stopped him, telling of Kirukiv's more passive nature. She screamed, and eventually Kirukiv's cries reached the ears of her father and brother who immediately came to her rescue. Emu's pleading did eventually win over her husband, though thinking her quite insane. She had offered to take the intelligent Orc child into the city to see just how much she could learn. Kirukiv herself actually delighted in the idea of new prospects rather than continuing the fruitless war her kin dabbled in. As Czernobog and Yrzezi burst forth from the overhanging foliage, it was Kirukiv who first tried to calm them and explained of the invite into the city. But they flew into a rage, bent on slaughtering the small party. Yafeu and the others leapt into action against Kirukiv's family. She herself only watched. Most of the humans died facing such magic that the Orcs could conjure. Lightning in particular seemed to do the trick as the humid air and sloppy ground aided in generating enough currant for a lethal blow. Though at first unwilling, Emu was convinced into adding her talents to the fray from the coaxing by Kirukiv. The diminutive Orcess acting strangely beyond her years. Even so, in the end it was Kirukiv who brought an end to the onslaught and a victory for her supposed enemies. She used her powers to force the mighty dagger, Kepeskoth, from her father's grip, causing his electricity to go wild for a moment. In the confusion he fell to the ground and furthering her prowess she made the vines and roots of the forest floor constrict him, as well as catching her brother. In this state the two were helpless and soon dispatched with what remained of the wounded explorers.

They were met by the people of Bengolarrea with apprehensive stares once the sight of the young Orcess came through the gates. The people knew not what to do or to say. She was escorted to the castle and presented to Ozcollo. The King nearly died on the spot, shouting at his guards to kill the thing that had been brought before him. Not even his own daughter could quell his rage. There was only one man who put an end to the unneeded rally. Korex, still living but on his last leg, rose from his bed one last time. He presented himself down to the little Khajaghiki and declared her a citizen of Bengolarrea right there on the spot. No one ever got a chance to hear him explain his reasonings for soon after he retreated back to his bed, slept and died by the next day. Still unsure of this new play on events Ozcollo had Kirukiv locked within the library, faraway from the castle and the general public. She found that she did not mind this punishment so much as not only was there much for her to learn in such a place but she had someone to learn it with. For you see, Emu did not want the child to grow within the city feeling trapped and alone. Again against her husband's advise she introduced Muranu to the new comer. The two hit it off almost immediately, both having an insatiable inquisitiveness for the as yet unknown. They did not see one as an Orc and the other a human. The other was just a playmate, someone to grow and to learn with.

Far in the south the Khajaghiki Chieftainess learned of the death of her son and grandson, and the blatant kidnapping of her granddaughter. Jikaeljuglanth flew into a rabid fury, long since her mind had decayed and now only instinct drove her. She immediately set forth for the city, trailing behind were what remained of the warrior Orcs. Late that night and into the following morning she broke through the walls barehanded. It was only a matter of time before the inevitable struck. Though she had become engorged with magic in her old age she no longer wielded the intellect to properly conduct her castings. And that would be her down fall. Even with the lesser spells swinging in behind her from her kin the people of Bengolarrea had the upper hand from the start. Kirukiv and Muranu could only watch from the tower of the library as the southern wall was set ablaze. If the little Orcess knew it was her grandmother out there she said not a word. Jikaeljuglanth died as the sun rose that morning from a well aimed shot from a catapult set along the eastern wall. The bolt struck her on the side of her skull, not only shattering it but snapping her neck in two. Then, right as their matriarch fell down dead, the remaining Blue-Eyed Orcs fled back into the forest, not to be heard of again for many a year.

Kirukiv was then free to grow within the city. Her brethren caring little for her well being from that day forwards. Most perhaps believing her to be dead. Years went by and slowly her talents blossomed further and further. The Alterf still were uneasy with her presence within their city walls. She was still an Orc and had proved that on many an occasion. For the most part she was calm and collected, but at times when spells went awry or if someone inadvertently upset her Kirukiv would immediately revert back into an Orc and any or all who got in her way was labeled a foe. All except for Muranu. He appeared to be the only individual to calm her inherent blood lust. There was on one such occasion, after nearly five years of being housed within the Library, that her emotions ran rampant. She had been allowed plenty more freedom than what she had first been given. For the most part every section of the structure was her playground of learning. So it was eventual that any secrets stored within would be discovered in due time. Such secrets had been the very legendary Falchion wielded by the Draconian that slew his father, the tyrant blue, Mitnetorirjesk and the recovered scale and bone constructed into swords and shields. Baprivrhyisjic had been removed from the castle some years before, replaced inside the halls from which the history of their people was told. That weapon had been the first object that Kirukiv had laid eyes on when she had first entered the chamber. She before had had very little interest in the people of the city who had once been the Kihlesa of a Blue Dragon. Still, either it had been her curiosity or the irresistible tug of the sword's magic that guided her into the Hall of History. Once she had seen Baprivrhyisjic she claimed it for herself. There was an uproar from the King as for letting her take such a powerful weapon and even Emu did not approve of having the ancient walls disturbed. Kirukiv flew into a rage, claiming the Falchion as part of her heritage and rightfully hers. Many sections of the Library were damaged in her fit and it had only been Muranu who had any sense as for what to do to calm her. He promised her that one day the blade would be hers and that he would help her. He promised that they would see the world together.

But years went by and eventually the people of Bengolarrea trusted Kirukiv enough to allow her freedom from the prison of knowledge. Ozcollo stepped down and his daughter Emu and her husband Yafeu took the throne in his stead. As well, it was around this time that Muranu and Kirukiv had openly professed their feeling to one another. They kept their relationship a secret, fearing what other people would think. But the inevitable happened, Kirukiv became pregnant. Emu was the only one that the two went to and informed of the news. Though delighted herself, she knew the turmoil it would cause and the repercussions they would face raising a half-child openly in the city. But Kirukiv didn't care, and by this point neither did Muranu. They were wed and the news proclaimed to the people. It caused an uproar, they would not allow an Orcess to be their Queen and a Half-breed to be their heir. The new family was shunned openly and confined to the castle and library -the latter seemed to have become their permanent home.

It was during the first twilight of the winter solstice that Kirukiv gave birth to her and Muranu's daughter. She named the babe Phylynya, with her father's suffix, von Drakko. And she was beautiful. She had the shimmering blue-violet scales and golden eyes and hair of her mother. She even had a golden bump on her forehead and vertical pupils personifying her Draconic forbearer. Her physical stature itself was that of her father, humanesque, slim and trained. Some also believed that it was the reintroduction of a human parent that brought out an almost elf-like quality to her being. Her youngest years were spent much like her mother's before her, within Eosphoros. Though unlike her mother she spend her days in quiet solitude with far less tantrums. She did not speak much and instead became, for lack of a better word, obsessed with perfecting herself. She would learn about spells and constantly put them into practice. With weapons she preferred the ripping of blades as opposed to the smashing of hammers or clubs. As such it was her father who eventually presented her with the ancestral blade of her race, Baprivrhyisjic. Her mother in turn gave her the dagger that had passed down throughout the years into her hands, Kepeskoth. Why? For a sad yet simple reason. They did not approve of her being kept confined like a bird when she and her mother had proven their worth to the people of Bengolarrea. But ever since they had learned of the unnatural union between Kirukiv and Muranu the little family had been shunned and persecuted. Even with the favor of the Queen, Emu, still there were other ways to instill spite. So eventually it was decided that when she could defend herself well enough she would be sent on her own way, so that she could go adventuring where her parents had not. That time came at the age of nineteen, when her restless nature had finally bitten through her usually calm demeanor. The grieving parents knew it was time and could do no more to postpone the inevitable. She was given the two weapons as a parting gift, as well as the Amulet of the Ithquentith which Kirukiv had taken for her own from her grandmother many years before. Some how the device had survived with so little as a scratch against its silvery surface. She didn't know if it still offered any magic however. Another gift was actually from Phylynya's human grandmother, Emu. It was an exceedingly old ring and one of the few trinkets scavenged from Mitnetorirjesk's hoard. She could not recall its Draconic name but somehow the Half-Orc knew it already. Irthosavandrajilgirifyugvreol. It was a powerful object representing the Deity Avandra. It was golden and carved into the likeness of a serpent twining the finger. In its mouth it held a garnet orb. The mystical ring held a secret that not even the knowledgeable teen knew of. With the blessings of both the King and Queen Phylynya set out that night as the moon began to rise. She had been given a young, white, monger camel named Kaboobi with his packs filled to the brim with supplies to hopefully outlast the harshness of Ferrodbekilk.

She traveled for near a week with little excitement. She did not know where she was going but her grandmother had suggested to head east, towards the farming village of Langit, beyond the golden sands. It was the only idea she had. It wasn't until perhaps the eleventh night that the desert had decided to test her will. She made a habit of traveling during the night and sleeping during the day beneath her tent to escape the harsh rays of the sun. It was during one of these sun-sleeps that a small band of Khajaghiki, now reduced to raiders, had stormed her camp in the hopes of finding some valuables. Ever alert, the Half-Orc had longed for such a day to test her skills in combat. Though none actually occurred. For once she rose the deadly Falchion above her head the party of six on the charge stopped dead as if memorized by the sight of such a thing. Then, they all sank to their knees and bowed. Confused at first, the leader of the band by the name of Gogma, son of Ezkepap by another Orcess, explained of the sword's significance. That she as its bearer was their long lost Chieftainess. Phylynya didn't care too much for his ramblings, for she already knew of its powers, just didn't realize that it still held such meaningfulness with the surviving creatures. She would have killed him on the spot but their presence did bring prospect. She could use them. So she accepted their loyalty and commanded the six to remain with her as a guard while she traveled to Langit.

More days passed and went. For a few Phylynya had to spare some of her rations with her dimwitted followers. Some days were good and the wilderness-hardened Orcs knew how to track food in the desert as well as how to find water. A month was spent feasting on serpents and vultures as the end of the desert drew near. But Ferrodbekilk would not lets its blood leak away so quickly. The Half-Orc could sense something was wrong as the very sands from beneath her steed shifted. Kaboobi reared as best he could as a tower of sand shot into the sky from below. The small party looked up and saw an elongated kite flying across the night sky. Or that was at least what Gue proclaimed before being slammed to the ground beneath an ebony-clawed food. The others were helpless to watch as the fleshy corpse of one of the six Orcs was lifted into the air and gobbled down the gullet of a serpentine neck. That was when Phylynya finally got a good look at their would-be assailant. It was a Brown Dragon, a beast the likes of which she had never before seen. The remaining Orcs immediately set into action to defend their illegitimate charge. With a single tail swipe they were knocked back into the dunes. Another Orc named Laash was scooped up in a second and swallowed while still very much alive. Phylynya brought out her dagger from which she knew was Dragon-forged. Its tail came around again and she spring into the air to dodge. With blade in hand she sunk its cruel edge deep enough to sever sinew and nick bone. The beast flung back as an electric currant ran up its spine. He remembered that feeling, the lightning of a Blue. How dare she wield such power! Ithquantsonear shot into the air again, away from any more harm, hovering in front of the mangled precession. He questioned the Half-Orc of the origin of the blade and as well glanced a shiny pendent dangling in front of her breast. He spoke the name of the ancient Ithquentith of Ferrodbekilk and Phylynya ordered the remaining Orcs to hold their assault. The sand dragon landed once more and she allowed him to come close. He smelled her. She smelt like a Blue. Mitnetorirjesk... He salivated. She smelt good... But no more thoughts came as out shot Baprivrhyisjic in the blink of an eye, severing the jugular right below the Wyrm's jaw. He reared, blood raining everywhere. He screeched and roared, bucked and kicked as his life forced fizzled upon the desert's blackened sands. As a last ditch effort to escape he flung himself back down to the ground and attempted to claw down to his underground lair. He only half-way succeeded. His rear hunches, parts of his wing and elongated tail still remained above ground. The Eater of the Divine was dead. All thoughts within Phylynya's mind just seemed to come to a sudden stop. She had just felled a dragon, and no wyrmling at that. She longed to see what existed far below, his lair and his horde, but knew it would take a very long time. Many hands make light work but the question was could she truly trust the loyalty of an Orc. Luckily Gogma had survived the sudden attack. She trusted him only a slight bit more that she trusted the others. Which wasn't really much to begin with. But still, she would take a chance. She informed him to return back to his tribe and gather his people and have them come to this spot. They were to dig out the dead dragon and uncover what he himself had been trying to get to. She warned him that she would be back in a year's time to check on his progress and threatened that if they had betrayed her that she would kill him and every other Orc she found as an accomplice. This struck enough fear in the surviving creatures to send them away that very night. The kill and any treasure rightly belonged to her. She had yet to boast an empty threat.

It only took a little less than ten moons before the borderlands of Langit were in slight. The area was a massive plain of field and forest and it was from here that most trade from within Ferrodbekilk originated. She did not know what would happen to her here or why she felt the need to start her adventures in this place. The people there were very strange and seemed to give her a wide breath to walk in. Phylynya knew her race would not be well tolerated wherever she went. Still, her cowl easily disguise herself enough to get what she wanted and where she wanted in public settings. She sold her camel to a stables and instead bought a stallion that would be better suited for the road ahead. Or, that had at least been her plan. She spent her first night of sleep in an actual bed at a tavern called Vunderbal. Mostly a place for traders coming back and forth across the sands. She only hopped while the Orcs were gone none of them would find her carcass and scavenge it. That night she dreamed. She saw dragons of many colors and forms that she could not name, faces she could not see. She saw water and mountains and forests that her eyes had never before beheld. She awoke with a start in the middle of the night and sitting at the foot of her bed was a dark figure emitting shadows from its being. The only definition she could see was it's eyes that glowed a murky blue like that of the bottomless ocean. Very slowly it stood, and so did she. Then it bolted out the side window of her room. At first she didn't think much of it, but curiosity had always prevailed when it came to the unknown. She jumped from her bed and towards the window. In the distance the beast ran off, farther east, trailing shadows. In that instant Phylynya gathered up her meager belongings and flew straight after. She didn't know why she wanted to follow the creature but for some reason she felt a need to see where it was headed. She felt no malevolence, only that it wanted her to follow. The blue-skinned half-Orc ran behind the beast all night and it drew itself farther and farther into the farmlands. Strange trees grew here. Strange smells too. As the sun rose against the horizon Phylynya could see the snaking silveriness of a river in the distance. There was also a large black dot. A home perhaps. The shadow beast appeared to be heading towards this structure.

As Phylynya got close she could see a woman sitting outside on a rocking chair. In her one arm, across her shoulder she held a long stick of some sort. The creature just pranced right up to her and lay down. She reached down and began stroking its inky mane. Bold as always, she did not wait to scope the situation. The Half-Orc marched up to the homestead, up to the woman who had sent her apparition in the night and demanded answers. Instead, the woman introduced herself. Her name was Shala, and her 'pet' was a lion-dog by the name of HueYin. Shala explained that she was a seer, she could foretell the future by reading an individual's aura. Phylynya didn't respond, listening. The woman then continued and said that HueYin was her partner, he was the one who found those in need. Phylynya was to be the last of her students. The Half-Orc almost laughed at such a pathetic story, but was made silent as the woman told of a tale about a Blue Wyrm King stabbed by his lover and a Draconian who loved an Orc. She went on still of parent after parent, running down finally onto the one labeled Phylynya von Drakko. Stunned, at a lost for words, she only asked what the woman wanted. Shala responded that she merely wanted to advise. Shala was a woman guided by Fate. The very reason for her existence was to train and shape the malformed Destined into greatness. Phylynya still didn't believe her so Shala proclaimed that as the sun rose they would do battle. Not satisfied as for reasoning, the Orcess if anything was curious still. So in the end she consented. The woman rose from her chair, staff in hand, and lead her farther over the hill where the plain leveled out and the sun warmed their back. Shala offered her the first strike. Not wanting to harm the human, Phylynya first brought out her dagger, Kepeskoth. She charged and was defected just as swiftly. Stunned and confused, she charged again, only to be deflected again. Three more defensive strikes and she realized that the staff the woman held was not just for walking. Bordering on rage, Phylynya drew out Baprivrhyisjic. Still her assault did not but to cause exertion to her already sand-warn frame. Her defenses lowered, Shala took to the offensive. Three strikes did the trick, one to the stomach, another to the wrist, and a final to the skull. Phylynya fell to the earth, dazed for a second or two. She rolled onto her back and staring down at her was the grinning mug of Shala, as well as her pet. Phylynya honorably consented defeat that day. She would allow Shala to train her for whatever was to come her way. A year or so went by and still the Half-Orcess' dreams were still plagued with visions. Her mentor provided little explanation as to these, only that they were to be events in the distant future. However, it soon became time to make good on her promise to Gogma. With a heavy heart she announced that she would be leaving and thanked the woman for all she had learned. Shala did not question the sudden decision, almost expecting it. As such she sent her Familiar, HueYin, to be bonded by blood with her student. Phylynya questioned the logic behind this but accepted the rite none the less as she had become found of the mix-breed during their time together. That same night she set out across the border on his back.

The beast was swift, the two reaching the site within the week. And what Phylynya saw made her face flush with both rage and fear. She knew it was the correct site as off to the side the decayed carcass of Ithquantsonear lay torn, meat hanging on bone like bloody flags. Off to the side sat agape the opened tomb to which she supposed the sand dragon had turned lair. It looked as though at one point it had been a cathedral, its frontal face now crumbled into a gaping, jagged portal. With out fear Phylynya ventured inside the darkened hull with HueYin at her heels. Thanks to her Darkvision she needed not lighting in order to navigate the dry catacombs laid far beneath the shifting sands. As deeper and deeper she delved her fears grew to greater heights. She could spot the remnants of triggered traps. As well, scattered about, was the mangled remains of Orcan carcasses. Curiouser still were human remains dotted amongst the wreckage. Minutes turned to hours as the interior of the structure was mapped out in her mind, leading her straight to the main chamber. At that moment her fears came to light. This was where the dragon had stashed its baubles, only with not a gold piece to spare. Deep inside herself Phylynya nearly went into a fury. Her catch had been stolen out from under her. How foolish to trust such oafish hominids. She went into a tizzy, clawing at dilapidated pillars and shattered busts to quell her anger at betrayal. That was until she saw it, another cluster of bodies off towards a farther chamber. For some reason this mangled pile of dead flesh perked her interest. Resisting the stench she inched closer and among the wreckage she spotted what had once been the Blue-Eyed Orc, Gogma. Something strange had happened here, keeping the carrion of both man and beast trapped within and preserved with both heat and earth. That night she road back to Langit non-stop and arrived near exhausted with lack of sleep. Immediately she stalked off towards the hut of the seer to acquire some insight into the situation and again her heart dropped from its pedestal. For a year she had slept and aged within the feeble cottage of Shala. Now she returned to find it not but a blacked pile of ash. She screamed, rushing into the still smoldering timber. She didn't know why, she knew it was a futile effort. It was already too late. Still she dug, deeper and deeper, fighting off blisters and burns. Tears evaporated on her cheeks as her palms suddenly gripped around something solid and unbelievably unscathed. The Half-Orc pulled with all her might, HueYin tugging at the end of her smoldering cloak. Out in a flurry of crimson and charcoal came the same staff which Shala had bested her time and time again. Once the weapon had reached free air there was a burst of light and voice much like her mentor whispered into her ear. She said the weapon's name was Laraekarisit, the Weapon of Sight, and that its powers were now Phylynya's. Shala's voice warned not to go in search of the men and to forget the hoard that had been scattered. A scene permeated her vision. It was something like an island or a large land mass close to the sea. The same area that she had dreamed for so many nights since she had arrived in Langit.

'Forget what lies behind,' the sound beckoned, 'the past is past where sleeps no gain.'

It seemed strange to let go. But Shala was right. She did have a destiny. But that didn't mean she could never return for repentance. Whoever had done these crimes against her person would pay. Her life was long, not so with man. Orcs were not known for patients but she was no ordinary Orc. Within her veins flowed the blood of a blue aside from that of man. She could feel his power seething through her veins with giddy aspirations of grandeur.

'Grow stronger to take back what is yours.'

People

Mitnetorirjesk (Lightning Fang)

The blue wyrm ancestral father of Phylynya.

Vorelneelam (Beautiful Sapphire)

Phylynya's ancestral human mother.

Lami (Soft)

A sister slave in Mitnetorirjesk's harem who helped Vorelneelam.

Theron (Hunter)

One of the house slaves to Mitnetorirjesk who prepared his meals. Was once in love with Vorelneelam.

Abastor (Away from the Stars)

The horse on which Vorelneelam fled.

Ithquantsonear (Eater of the Divine)

A brown dragon under the service of Mitnetorirjesk.

Haraldr (Army Ruler)

Chieftain of the Khajaghiki before Silastrix. Cush's father. Killed by Silastrix.

Barbara (Strange)

One of Haraldr's harem and mother to Cush.

Silastrix (Dragon Decedent)

Son of Mitnetorirjesk and Vorelneelam. Ruler of Chaviylah and the Khajaghiki.

Cush

Orc wife of Silastrix and mother of Jikaeljuglanth.

Jikaeljuglanth (Wonderful Horror)

Daughter of the Draconian Silastrix and the Orc Cush.

Ezkepap

Husband of Jikaeljuglanth.

Czernobog (Black God)

Son of Jikaeljuglanth and Ezkepap. Grandfather of Phylynya.

Sh'Lorron

Wife of Czernobog and grandmother to Phylynya.

Yrzezi

Son of Czernobog and Sh'Lorron. Kirukiv's elder brother and Phylynya's uncle. Died during the Golden War.

Kirukiv

Daughter of Czernobog and Sh'Lorron. Yrzezi's little sister and Phylynya's mother.

Korex (Raven King)

The new king of Bengolarrea. Son of Lami and Theron.

Dyani (Deer)

Korex's wife.

Ozcollo (Ocelot)

One of Korex's three sons. Father to Emu.

Micos (Monkey)

One of Korex's three sons. Killed by Czernobog.

Cuntur (Condor)

One of Korex's three sons. Killed by Czernobog.

Tanith (Serpent Lady)

Ozcollo's wife, mother to Emu, grandmother to Phylynya.

Emu (Cat)

Wizard daughter of Ozcollo and Tanith. She is the one who saves Kirukiv's life.

Yafeu von Drakko (Bold Dragon)

Emu's husband, he is the on who killed Yrzezi and almost Kirukiv.

Muranu von Drakko (Little Dragon Lion)

Yafeu's and Emu's son. Husband of Kirukiv and father of Phylynya.

Phylynya von Drakko (Cat-Like Dragon)

Daughter of the Orc Kirukiv and the human wizard Muranu.

Kaboobi

A white camel given to Phylynya to get her across the desert.

Gogma (Demon)

Leader of the Orcs that helped escort Phylynya to Langit.

Laash

One of the Orcs helping Phylynya.

Gue

One of the Orcs helping Phylynya.

Shala (Lady)

An elder woman from Langit. She trains Phylynya for seven years and foresees her destiny.

HueYin (The Color of Shadow)

Shala's Lion-Dog familiar who eventually joins Phylynya.

Places

Ferrodbekilk (Golden Sands)

Phylynya's ancestral homeland.

Taoulharanhew (City of the Blue Jewel)

The kingdom from which Mitnetorirjesk rules. After his death it is his former slaves who rebuild.

Chaviylah (Circle of Eden)

Forest of which the Khajaghiki live.

Pison

The city of the Khajaghiki in the center of Chviylah and where Silastrix ruled and died.

Bengolarrea (Land of the Blessed)

The renamed Taoulharanhew by the Kihlesa.

Eosphoros (Light Bringer)

The proper name of the library that was eventually built after Mitnetorirjesk's final demise.

Langit (Paradise)

A fertile farmland far to the east of Ferrodbekilk.

Vunderbal

A tavern near the border between Langit and the desert. Many traders rest there.

Titles

Ithquentith (God Lord)

The ruler of Ferrodbekilk.

Kihlesa (The Enslaved)

The human slaves that worship Kepeskoth.

Khajaghiki (Blue-Eyed Orcs)

The tribe of Orcs that captured Vorelneelam.

Alterf (The Glance of the Lion)

The renamed Kihlesa peoples.

Things

Kepeskoth (Storm Tooth)

The dagger with which Vorelneelam stabbed Mitnetorirjesk.

Baprivrhyisjic (The Immortals are Bleeding)

The royal weapon of the Khajaghiki, taken up by Silastrix and used to kill Mitnetorirjesk.

Laraekarisit (Weapon of Sight)

A staff formally owned by Shala to help with her predictions.

Amulet of the Ithquentith

A pendent with the bust of a blue wyrm. A symbol of high status in Ferrodbekilk.

Irthosavandrajilgirifyugvreol (Ring Holding Avandra's Secret)

A ring given to Phylynya to protect her on her journey. Rumor has it the ring holds something within.


End file.
